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About Google Book Search Google's mission is to organize the world's information and to make it universally accessible and useful. Google Book Search helps readers discover the world's books while helping authors and publishers reach new audiences. You can search through the full text of this book on the web at |http : //books . google . com/ Ik^yNjBj mmfmi. mmwf DR.a.T.BRAlV, THE TALE OF A FIELD HOSPITAL THE TALE OF A FIELD HOSPITAL FREDERICK TREVES Snr^f.:: / ^:rjcrJt;;ary ii> It.:'t. tkf Ott^rt ; SutXf.^ninOrJir.ary la ft.R.H. thr I ^ff < -;.wr'.'i*>/;,' Sur^'^n 7i .'.','■ //..I/. Tr.u>/^, in Sit'h Affict With 14 iLLurriUTiONt FfioM Oriqinal PHOToaRAPHt Seventh Thou«and Cassell and Company. Limited LONDON, PARIS, NEW YORK i^ MELBOURNE 1900 ALL RIGHTS KESBJtVBD K< ou Fii->(t Edition Ortoher 1000. JicprDiitd Xoccinbt-r I'MjO, Ite'cohcr 1L*0('. PREFACE. In this little book some account is given of a field hospital which followed for three months the Ladysmith Relief Column, from the tune, in fact, that that column left Frere until it entered the long-beleaguered town. The fragmentary record is based upon notes written day by day on the spot. Some of the incidents related have been already recounted in a series of letters pub- lished in the British Medical Journal, and certain fragments of those letters are reproduced in these pages, or have been amplified under circumstances of greater leisure. The account, such as it is, Is true. It may be that the story is a little sombre, and possibly on occasions gruesome; but war, as viewed from the standpoint of a field hospital, presents little that is cheery. It appeared that some interest might attach to an account of the manner in which our wounded faced their troubles, and of the way in which they fared, and under the influence of that impression this imperfect sketch has been written. CONTENTS. PAGE I. — Thb Field Hospital 1 II.— Frere Camp 8 III.— The Hospital Doo 7 IV. — The Morning of Colenso 9 V. — The Hospital vnder the Ridge 14 VI. — Inside an Operation-Tent 20 VII.— The Surgeons op the Field Hospitals .... 24 VIII. — A Professional Visit by Rail 26 IX. — The Hospital Train at Colenso 29 X. — The Nurses at Chieyelet 33 XI. — Some Traits in the Men 38 XII.— The Sign of the Wooden Cross 43 XIII.— The Men with the Spades 46 XIV.— The Marching 48 XV.— Spearman's Farm 64 XVI.— The Hospital at Spearman's 56 XVII.— The Two White I 60 CONTENTS. vii PAGE XVIII.— Aftbr Spxox Kop 63 XIX. — Thb Story op thb Rkstless Mam 67 XX.— "Did Wb Win?" 69 XXI —The Fighting Spirit 71 XXII.— Thb Body Snatchbk» 74 XXni.— Seeing Them Off 77 XXIV.— A Flneral at SpeakmanV 84 XXV.— Ab«^nt-iiindedne88 88 XXVI. — At Chieveley Again 92 XXVII, — A Journey to Ladysmith 95 XXVIII.— A Straggler 102 XXIX.— How a Surgeon Won the Victoria Crojw . . .103 XXX. — " Sic transit GLORIA MUNDX " 108 ST OF ILLUSTRATIONS n 1)M drtwti up. No. 4 StatiuVaIsV Fjiii^d ThK KiTCHHN Of" THK Ft The i-ro-LH-nhiip^ diili^h col to the wiy ur ilit winfl The Ilos)jrAi. D'k* J • » . . Tmk OiKi: 4Tlo;*-TE?fT or infi^^»r-*l irtTAt, A Hosi'iTAL Train i;kino loaded up at Frbrb . My WACitioN, Sccjtcii Caut, and Kakiik Boys The Fiei.I) IIom'Ital on die Mak< h. ()l rsrANNKD at PiiKTouu^' Farm ....... Ni). \ FlKLO IIosI'ITAL AT Sj'KAUMAN'.S FaRM. SuROEONS ANJJ Ntr-E ........ An Amrulanck Wagoun ....... A FlNKRAL AT SI'EAKMAN'^ ....... A liRICiADE MARrMINO OVT AT ChIKVELKY FOR THE AtTA( K ri'oN FiKThi:-^. 1\a*mno thk Field Hospital 4 M II 1 J* ** 20 »» " 30 4S '* Hairy M \ry ' A Straogler at ('>!IKVEI,KY The I>ATTLFiihi.:) mk (' )I knso ...... In the fur.v-ro .!! I n 'Ji- ). >.iy of .u..- of L'.-!. Long's ].':<,■<. T- Hi- li^'l.t isMu- Mn;;:.s;i <;;oVfi:i which the Um.; ^ hi, 1. 'J h- t^.al-ton f"! lill to Tiif It-rt is C ->L'ti\ Kh uf. 52 G4 S4 92 94 102 lot THE TALE OF A FIELD HOSPITAL. THE FIELD HOSPITAI. I HE Field Hospital, of which some account is given in these pages, waa known as ' No, 4 Stationary Field Hospital/' The term "stationary" is hardly appropriate, since the Hospital moved with the coUimn, and, until at least the relief of Lady- smith, it followed the Headqimrten?* camp, nie term, however, serves to distinguish * No. 4 " from the smaller field hospitals which were attached to the various brigades, and which were much more mobile and moro restless, At the commencement of the campaign the capacity of the Hospital was comparatively smnlL The olHcers in charge were Major Kirkpitriek, Major Mallins, and Lieutenant Simson, all of the Koyal Army Medical Corps, These able officers — and none could have been more efficient^ — were, 1 regret to say, all invaUded as the campaign progressed. Before the move was made to Spearman's Fann the Hospital wm enlarged, and the staff was increased by 6 2 THE FIELD HOSPITAL. the addition of eight civil surgeons It is sad to report that of these two died in the camp and others were invalided. No men could have worked better together than did the army surgeons and their civilian colleagues. The greatest capacity of the Hospital was reached after the battle of Spion Eop, when we had in our tents about 800 wounded. Some account of the nurses who accompanied the Hospital is given in a section which follows. The Hospital was well equipped, and the supplies were ample. We carried witii us a large number of iron bedsteads complete with mattresses, blankets, and sheets. These were all presented to the Hospital by Mr. Acutt, a generous merchant at Durban. It is need- less to say that they proved an inexpressible boon, and even when the Hospital had to trust only to ox trans- port, all the bedsteads went with it The ladies of the colony, moreover, worked without ceasing to supply the wounded with comforts, and "No. 4" had reason to be grateful for their well-organised kindness. The precise number of patients who were treated in the Hospital is no doubt recorded in the proper quarter, but some idea of the work accomplished may be gained from the fact that practically all the wounded in the Natal campaign — from the battle of Colenso to the relief of Ladysmith — ^passed through No. 4 Stationary Field Hospital The exceptions were represented by the few cases sent down direct by train or ambulance from the smaller field hospitals. HO, * 8T*TtONAHY niLO HOSPITAL AT IL FEEEE C41tr T WAS from Frer© Camp that the army tinder General BuUer »tartcMl for the Tugek Ilivor, and the Hospital {>iU3bod its teats in that camp on tho evpniog of Monday, December 1 1 tli , 1 89a. We went up firom Pieteniiaritzburg by train. The contents of the trucks were soon emptied out OD the line, some littlo way outside Frere Station, and close to the mil way the Hospital was put up. lliat night wa all slept under cauFas — many for the first lime — and all were well pleased that we had at laiit arrived at the front Frere is merely a Btation on the Uiio of rail which travorses Natal, and as it consists only of some thtBo or four houses and a few trees it can hfurdly be dignified by the name of hamlet Froro is simply a speck — a corru- gated iron oasis — on the vast undulating plains of the veldL These plains roll away to the horizon, and are broken only by kopjes and dongas and the eTorlasiing ant-hillB. On the way towards Ladysraith are a few kopjes of large size, from any one of which the line of the Tugela can be seen, with the hiUs beyond, occupied by the Boer ciitrenchrjiont.^, and over them again the hills which dominate Ladjsniith. On the way towards Estcourt winds a Lrcnvn Ffiad, along which an endless train of <^x- waggons nunbb aj"^ *^** ^^^^ ^n the wilderness of the camp. The river ulndi ii "run'' through Frere lia.^ lono^ Kince cc^tsed i water is retained hy certain druns, and the brmed are uninviting. The water is the cob p, and when in a glass is scmi-ojiuqiic! anrl i rownish colour The facetious sujifiiT, ub h calls it "khaki and watrT." In the louost pool, immediately ahove the iron railway hri^lge whicli lias been blown up by the Boers, Tommy Atkinii batlies with g-ustr) in wliat is seemingly a light- coloured niurl. Ib;n; also be w;ishes his socks and his Hlnrt->. Tiie centre of fbe camp i'. tbe railway station, and that of I'rc.rc i-\ i\ic '.in;i.l\c/,,\, ;ajrj tin>}j, unpretending that any bfml(;t could pf<:f/;//d fo. It in, however, crowded out of all rr;;iHOjj, uwi jf^. pJ;,».forr/j of hard (;arth is covered with \hrA('/ri and b;if/:/;.crr; uiid f.ackw juid saddles in as much di/v;rder ;i.-. jf tnry f,;,/] \,i('tt thrown in panic from a \>un\ifi'/ fr;iJo \Ui7/(rii th<: little i^'oods shed and the htti'- bo',r' jf,:/ ^fj.r/., ;,f(, t'j '/trill r. hinds oT rifles. A sentry, pr<»od ;ip|.;,rr.r, ; ^- ,r, |,,:; ';ov^;rin;..' of dust, is parading one * u'i of »h'. p;;,^f'. (,',,. '.' \,iU: ill t.ho of.hrT ^iid a motley crowd of p';f;'.p(r)r,r/ ./j^j^r^ ;,ro fllhu'/ watr-r-hott Ics at the tank whi'h f'.uppli/.;: \\,, /,,(/,,,,. In the waltin;^' room a tumbled imihri of infu i,j,, ;,;•!/ rp on the floor, while on a bench TNE KlTCHEhT Of THE REUS NOa^lTAU tiitfttwt aK^^dinf t9 iht miu »f tit* mtita. f*# &KHMtamii t>- lit ill keit dt^mn up. Ffttf p. 4 i FIZJI IjLkT an £mxs ^ s iv^ a Bks«U. *?ri» •'^ufipx #^ L?w*i?r^ •w**-'^ boci. Jed w> zhs zaa^ k«ft«S z€ TFiAczasm. Are onr :c zi^ Tz^L^is JTin^ seems bn a sccj >sc T^ st3^i»- jzjiKeri L:c2<^ Lis 'r«sisa jrcoed. AZii liM ^isLe ruwa :& z&tf& vere xztApt leave Frere — drearj\ swelterin<^' I'V'ro. Bim: m left it has become a waste of rmal lines of dirtier dirt. The avciHH'H find nrjijares of white tents are gone, and in tlieir plar-*; iw a khaki waste covered with the most mf'Iancholy of r^rfn'c. At the <»nthl:ijf;. of yvf",\\, towns tliere is usually, in a pla(;e or two, a 6 VL I HERE were four operation-marquees pitched under the naval ridge on the day of Colenso, one connected with each of the field hospitalB. There is little about these marquees or about the work done in the shadow of them that is of other than professional interest. They were crowded, and over-crowded^ on December 15th, and the surgeons who worked in them worked until they were almost too tired to staud. Every preparation had been completed hours before the first wounded man arrived, and the equipment of each hospital was ample and excellent. To my thinking, a great surgical emergency, great beyond any expectation, was never more ably met than was this on the day of the first battle. The marquee is small. It accommodates the opera- tion table in the centre between the two poles, while along the sides are ranged the field panniers which serve as tables for instruments and dressings. It is needless to say that the operation-tent is very unlike an operating-theatre in a London hospital, but then the open veldt is very unlike the Metropolis. The floor of the tent is much- trodden gi*ass, and, indeed, much- ^^1 I rxfUDK AN orEnATJoy-rMsr stamed grass, for what drips upon it c^inot be wiped up. There are no bright br&ss water-taps, but there is n brave display of buckets and tin basins. Water is pre<;ieuB, more precious than any other necessity, for eveiy drop has to be brought by train from Frere. There is little room in the tent for others than the surgeon, his assistant^ the anfesthetist, and a couple of orderlies. The surgeon is in his shirt-sleeves, and his dress is probably completed by riding breechas and a helmet* The trim nurses, with their white caps and aprons, who form the gentlest element in the hospital theatre, are replaced by orderlies, men with burnt sienna complexions and unshaven chins, who are clad in the unpieturesque army shirt, in shorts, putties, and the inevitable helmet or **squasher" hat. They are, however, strong in tho matter of belts, which vary from a leather strap or piece of string to an elaborate girdle, worked, no doubt, by the hands of some cherished maiden. From the belt will probably bo hanging a big knife or a tin-opener, in place of the nurse's chatelaine, and from the breeches pocket may be projecting the bowl of a pipe. The orderly in a field hospital— who is for the most part a *' good sort "-^looks a little like one of the dramatis person^fe of Bret Harte's tales, and is a curious substitute for the immaculate dresser ^id the dainty nurse. Still, appearancas do not count for much, and the officers and men of the Royal Army Medical Corps did as sterling good work on Docember 15th as any body of men could do, and they were certainly not hampered by the lack of a precise professional garb. The wounded are brought into the marquee one by one. Not all are caaea for operation, but all have to be examined, and an examinattom^ more easily carried out on a table than or the bare ground* Moreover, to make aation painl^s, an anaesthetic is usually wonder bow much chloroform and niorpj on that day» and on the night antl day th The drugs would till one scale of a balanc Bcalc of which would be found the dull we ttiey were doBtined to obhterate. The lionrora % to sonie small extent to be measureil by the lists Qm le wounded and th© dead, but a more graphic representation would be pro- vided by the hideous total of the drops of chloroform and the grains of morphia which have come from the surgeon's store. The flies of the operation-marquee are wide open, for the heat is intense, and access must be easy. As it is, there is much mopping of brows and many '' pulls " of dirty lukewarm water from precious water-bottles. Un- happily the scenes within the shadow of the canvas cannot be quite hidden from those who are lying in the sun outside waiting their turn. As one man after another is carried in there is sure to be some comrade on the ground who will call out as the stretcher goes by : '' Keep yer chivey up, Joe " ; " Don't be down on your luck " ; •' They will do you a treat " ; " Good luck to yer, old cock, you won't feel nothing." One instance of the limited capacity of the marquee I may be pardoned for recounting. The amputation of f\ INSIDE AN OPERATIONTEXT. 1^ I^ was in progress when the pressure of work was at its height Beneath the table at the time of the opera- tion was the prostrate figure of a man. He had been shot through the face. His big moustache was clotted with blood, his features were obliterated by dust and blood, his. eyes were shut, and his head generally was enveloped in bandagea I thought he was dead, and that in the hurry of events he was merely awaiting re- moval The limb after amputation was unfortunately dropped upon this apparently inanimate figure when, to my horror, the head was raised and the eyes were opened to ascertain the nature of the falling body. This poor fellow was attended to as soon as the table was free. I was glad to see him some weeks after in the Assembly Hotel at Pietermaritzburg, hearty and well. He was a gallant officer in a Natal regiment, and when I recalled this gruesome incident to him, he owned that, feeble as he was at the time, it gave him a " shake up." 2i VII. THE SUnOEOXS OF THE FIELD HOSPTTATSL MONG the many officers of the RA.M.C. I must confess that my strongest sym- pathies are with those who are in charge of the little field hospitala These handy hospitals have their own transport, and move with the various brigades or divi- sions. The officers who command them have little comfort, little rest, the least luxurious mess, and the hardest of work. They bear the brunt of the campaign so far as the medical and surgical needs of the Army are concerned. They must be always ready, always at hand, prepared to be Ml of patients one day and to be empty the next; and those whose lives are spent with them can certainly claim that they have " no abiding city." The officers in charge of these hospitals are picked men, but as sound experience is necessary they are often men who are no longer young, and who may claim that they have already had their share of roughing it They are, perhaps, more than any others, the most exposed to criticism. If anything goes wrong at the front a large proportion of the blame falls upon them, and if all goes well their names appear in no roll of honour. ^ ^^ fc ■ %. ^^ 1 '♦-^.- -J 6 •^^^^ i R ^B* ^^^ m ;^gl i.jt&^ ^ ^^B THE Of^ERATlON'TENT OF NO. 4 FlBkO 1 J — vu A rRApiBSlOXAL VISIT BT RAIU ^^^^^^^^■FTER a busy afternoon hum ^^^^^^^^^H hospitals under tha naval ridge, ^^H^^^H^ in tbe evening to Chieveley* in H^^^^V of gBttiiig somothmg to eat ^^^^^^^^ been at Chievelcj long when a arrived with a letter to tall Lieutenant Roberts had been brought in woundc ask ine to go back to the naval hill at once. It' dark, and I had at that time no horsa How hospital tr^n was standing in the station, ani fertile brain of Major Braaner-Creagh, who was i of the train, it occurred that we might detach tli and go down on it to the ridge, since the field were close to the railway. There was the dithculty. however, that the li single line, and a water train had already 8tean3 to the ridge and wai( expected back at any inoi was the simple problem of an engine on the one 1 of a train on the other, proceeding in difi'efent i at niirht on a sinj^lo lino ofr^iL^^^^^^^^^^H i PniiFh\%^10XAL VfslT HY HAth. came with ma It sa happened that we went tender first The railway line appeared to us to go up and down with many undulations, and at the top of each nm we expected to meet the water train. Fortunately the moon was coming up^ and tbo blackness which oppressed us was £i^ing a little. We proceeded slowly, wth much whistling and considerable waving of a red lamp. At last there was made out the dim outline of the water train coming towards ua at a fair speed. Wo stopped, and there were redoubled eflbrts in the direction of whistling, lamp waving, and shouting. These exhibitions had an immediate effect upon the water train, which, after some hysterical whistling, stopped, and backed promptly out of sight The driver told us afterwards that he thought a whole train was coming down n|>on him at fall speed, and that he might well have backed down into Colenso, We got out some way above the ridge and walked on to the field hospital I had so lately left The gallant officer 1 came to see was comibrtably bestowed in a tent, was quite free from pain and anj^iety, and was disposed to sleep. From a surgical point of view the case was hopeless, and had been hopeless from the first, and no idea of an operation could be entertained. Our examination and our discussion of the case with Major Hamilton, IiA.M.Q, under whose care the patient was, occupied some time, and the engine had long since gono back to Chieveley, There was nothing to be done but to sleep on the ground in the open, and this we proceeded to do, lying down on the grasi outside the tent we had just visited There was no hard- ship in this, as it was a splendid night« and the full moon -^ A PEOFESBWNAL VJ^tf BY UdiU had risen and Iiad flooded the whole countrj'^ with a spectral Hglit. As if by magic the r©5tle6&, hurrying* motlej* crowd of the earlier day had ^ 1 breeze and pleas- ant shadows had repl id the glare of the sun; a gentle silence ■ the noise and the turmoil; and of the iftemoon there was nothing left bat the ' ning in the moon. the open veldt, and tl le ridge* '2B IX. THE iioapiTAL thiik at OOLEKSU, I HE battle of Colemo was fouglit on Friday, DeoeintKjr 15th, and on Saturday, the 16th» an armisttce was declared for the buryin*^ of the dead. Very early on Saturday mornings while it wiia yet moon- light, the hospital train backed down from Chievelcy and came to a stand as near the field hospitals as possible. As soon as it was day- light (and at this time of the summer the sun rose before five) the loading of the train commenced. The tilling up of a hospital train is no ea.-^y business, and afforda a somewhat depressing sight The worst cases are dealt with first, and a lonj^' line of stretchers soon l»egan to pour from the hospital tents to the railway* The stretchers are put down on the rail- roail close to the wheels of the train. On this particu- lar morning it so hapj>ened that the carriages threw a shadow on the side of the line towards the hospital, so that the stretchers, if near the metals, were in the shada Many of the wounded had had no sleep, and many were developing some degree of feven A few had be* come deUriouB, and were difficidt to contn»l With the i :{o THE J I OS VITAL TRAIN AT G0LEN80. stretcher parties would come a certain number of such of the wounded as could walk, and very soon a not in- considerable crowd was gathered in die shade of the train. But what a crowd! The same sunburnt men with blistered faces, but now even a more motley gathering than filled the field hospitals the day before — a gathering made piteously picturesque by khaki rags, blue band- ages, casual splints, arm slings, eye bandages, slit-up trousers, and dressings of all kinda Here they came crowding to the train, some limping, some hopping, some helped along between two stronger comrades, some stag- gering on alone. A man with a damaged arm assisting a man with a bullet through his leg. A man stopping on the way to be sick, cheered up by another with a bandaged eye. An untidy, sorrowful crowd, with unbuttoned tunics and slovenly legs, with unlaced boots, with blood on their khaki jackets and on their blue shirts and on their stiffening dressings. The gentle hand of the nurse had not as yet busied itself with this unkempt and unwashed throng. There had been no time for washing nor for changing of garments, and if the surgeon has had to cut the coat and the shirt into rags, the wearer must wear the rags or nothing ; and as for washing, it is a sin to wash when water is priceless. The greater number of those who come to the railway line are oarried there on stretchers, but all who are well enough to take any interest in the journey are eager not to miss a place in the train. «>9^ " — « h- ^^ 1 1 ■^-^^■^_ wm A HOSPITAL T?r**N eeiNO LQADEO UP AT ^■■r THE HOSPITAL TRAIN AT COLENSO. tU The business of getting the "lying down" cases into the carriages is considerable, and everybody lends a hand, the surgeons being the most active of any. The berths in the train are placed one above the other, and the room for manipulating stretchers is small The equip- ment of the train was very complete, and every luxury was at hand, from hot soup to iced " lemon-squash," and even to champagne. Many generous ladies in the Colony had seen that the train should want for nothing, and Major Brazier-Creagh took as much pride in his travelling hospital as if he had built it himself. Innumerable instances came under my notice of the unselfishness of the soldier, and of his solicitude for his friends in distress. It was by the side of this hospital train that occurred an episode I have recorded elsewhere, and which may well be described again. An orderly was bringing some water to a wounded man lying on the ground near me. He was shot through the abdomen, and he could hardly speak owing to the dryness of his mouth, but he said : " Take it to my pal first, he is worse hit than me." This generous lad died next morning, but his pal got through and is doing well Another poor fellow, who was much troubled with vomiting, and who was indeed dying, said, as he was being hoisted into the train, " Put me in the lower berth, because I keep throwing up." How many people troubled merely with sea-sickness would be as thoughtful as he was ? He died not long after we reached Chieveley. Lieutenant Roberts, whom I had visited at intervals, went up by this train, and was placed in No. 4 Field :ji rn^ rrospfTAi. mAm at ooLEMm. Hospital at Chieveley. Her© a bedstead, with a coinlbrt^ able mattrcHs and whito sheets, was waiting ready for him. As the train niove^ '^^ ^'* ^^ ««d to note that a few who had been brought rail in the hope of a place being found for ^ be left behind, and had to be carried bac to await aonie other means of transport. J TUB JftJRSBS AT CHIEVEIFIY HE train which brought up No. 4 Field Hospital from Frere was stopped, as I have already s^d, at Chieveley. The tents and baggage were thrown out^ and with as much haste as possible the hospital was pitched on the open ground* close to the station. Before, however, any more than a few tents could be put up the wounded began to arriYa They catno in all Friday evening, and all Saturday, and all Saturday evening. The field hospiula by the naval hill had soon been filled, and alt cases that could be sent on to Chieveley were sent there, while as many as could go at once to the base were taken down by the hospital train. Saturday was a day of truce, but at sundown on Saturday not only had all the wounded to L»e cleared out from the field hospitals, but tho^e hospitals them- selves had to move, as, with the renewal of hostilities, they would be in a place of danger. Chieveley was therefore soon filled to overdowing. There were three army surgeons with " No. 4 '* whose names I have already mentioned* They wene reinforced D ^ :H the NUESKK AT (JHIEVELSY. by a small field hospital under the charge of Major Baird and Captain Begbia Some of the wounded came up by train, and some by ambulances or by waggons, but a very large proportion, a proportion which included nearly all the serious cases, were carried up on stretchers by hand. No mode of transport is more comfortable than this, or is less fatiguing to the patient, and the splendid organisation of yolunjbeer bearers and of coolie carriers enabled this means of bringing up the wounded to be veiy largely made use o£ Certainly the stretcher-bearers were the means of saving Uves, and of sparing those they carried an infinite amount of pain. As seen at night the procession up to Chieveley was doleful and mysterious. The long line of silent men moving in clusters, each cluster with a stretcher and a body in its midst Stealing slowly and cautiously over the veldt in the moonlight they all made for the two white lights which swung over the hospital by the station. The coolies carried their stretchers shoulder high, so that the body of the man they bore was lit fitfully by the moon as they passed along with absolutely noiseless feet. The coolies themselves added no little to the un- canny spectacle, for in the shadow beneath the stretcher stalked a double row of thin bare legs, and by the poles of the stretcher were the white or coloured turbans that these men affect ; while here and there a sleek black head glistened in the light. There was but one house at Chieveley^the station- master's house. It had been effectually looted after the WE XV^RBES AT f^nrEVELEr 3-% Boer fashion, but it would havo done well as a restmg- plaoe for the four nurses who came up with the hospital. The hou&o, however, had been taken possesion of, and the nurses had to contemplate either a night in the open or in the waiting-room at the station. A» this latter room had been used as a stable by the Boers, it was not in much request. It served, however, as a place for the depositing of personal baggage and for the pre- paring of such fowl m it was possible to prepare — chiefly, indoedp ibr the making of lea. The question of where to sleep was soon solved by the necessities of the positioa These ill-housed women, as a matter of fact, were hard at work all Friday, all Saturday, and all Saturday night. They seemed oblivious to fatigue, to hunger, or to any need for sleep. Considering that the heat was intense, that the thirst which attended it was distressing and incessant, that water was scarce, and that the work in hand was heavy and trying, it was wonderful that thoy came out of it all so little the worse in the end. Their ministrationa to the wounded were invaluable and beyond all pniise. They did a sarviee during those dis- tressful days which none but nurses could have rendered, and they set to all at Chieveley an example of unselfishness, self-sacrifice, and indefatigable devotion to duty. They brought to many of the wounded and the dying that comfort which men are little able to evolve, or are uncouth in bestowing, and which belongs especially to the tender, undefined and undetinable ministrations of womea The English soldier is as sensible of attention and as appreciative of sympathy and kindness as is any other man M Tin: MUtsm at gbisvelmy. who is at the mercy of circumstances, and I can well be- lieve that there are many soldiers — some of them now in England, crippled for life — who will long keep green the naoiiiory of the sisters at Chieveley* Some weeks after Colenso 1 was at Pietermaritzburg, and waa looking up in the hospital wards certain cases which had been attended to in "No. 4*" Among them was a paralysed man to whom one of the nurses had been very kind at Chieveley. I found him comfortably bestowed, but he wan possessed of a handkerchief the extreme dirtiness of which led ino to suggest that, as he was now in a centre of luxury, be should ask for a clean one. To which he re- plied, " I am not going to give this one up ; I am afraid of losing it. The sister who looked after me at Chieveley gave it to me, and hero is her name in the corner." As the truce was over on Saturday, and as the Boers might assume the aggressive and shell Chieveley and its helpless colony, the order was given to break up the hospital and got all the wounded away by train, and to retire with the tents and equipment to Frcre. This was done on Sunday morning. As soon as the wounded had loft — and it was no light matter getting them away — it wtus thought desirable that the women should bo at once got out of danger, and so they were bundled down to Krero with little ceremony in a mule waggon. As they hud no hospital to go to (for "No. 4" did not arrive until the small hours of the following morning) they took refuge in the hotel at Frere. They had some food with them, albeit it was not of a kind to attract the fastidious, and the four of thorn slept on the » THE NURSES AT OHIEVELEY. 37 floor of a looted and empty room, which even the kindly heart of Mrs. Wilson could not render other than a dreary resting place. This was their only "night in" in three days. I had, I am bound to confess, the advantage of them in the matter of ventilation, for I slept in a waggon. m ^imK Ti S 1 hav their 1 feeling fanity, , the woiioded took luck" like men A few relieved their ut meaningless pro- Boers were cursed with as much tn^ji^ughness as was the Jackdaw of Rheims. The majority were silent or said little. The tendency of most of the men was to make the least of their wounds, and some of those who were the worst hit were the most cheery. They were, with scarcely an exception, unselfish, and were singularly patient, considering that the exercise of patience is not a marked quality in men. They ministered to one another's wants with a tender solicitude which was not marred by the occasional un- couthncss of its method. There was a widespread belief that tobacco was u panacea for all ills, and any man who had the wherewithal to smoke shared the small luxury with his mates. If there was only one pipe in a tent it was kept circulating. One would see a man on one stretcher trying to arrange a pillow for a comrade on the next : the pillow in question being connnonly made out of a squashed helmet with a boot inside it. The man SQM£! TMAITS IN THE JrfA'A. 39 in any tent who was the least disabled was never so well pleased as when he was given something to do for those who were under the same canvas with him. With a pannikin and a spoon he would feed those who could not feed themselves imtil they were glad to be rid of the attention; or he would readjust a dressing, or cut off a boot, or get the dried blood from an exposed surface with a never-wearying anxiety. With few exceptions the men were honestly anxious '' not to give trouble." It was an article of faith with them to "take their turn," and no man would try to make out that his case gave him a claim for attention over his fellows. Indeed, on the occasion of a visit, the occupants of a tent were eager with one voice to point out what they considered to be the worst case, and to claim for it the earliest notice. The men of a tent were, in the kindliest way, a little proud of having a "real bad" case in their midst When the curtain of a tent is up the occupants whose heads are nearest to the tent ropes can easily converse with those who are similarly placed in the adjoining tent Thus I heard one man on the ground, whose head was nearly in the open» call out to another head just in view on the floor of the next tent: "We've a real hot 'un in along with us; he's got 'it through the lungs and the liver both, and the doctor has been in to him three times." To which the other head replied: "That's nothing to a bloke in here. He's been off his chump all night; his language has been a fair treat, and he's had four fit& We've had a night I don't thmk !" M) ^O^fE TRAITS IN THE MEN. Another article of faith with the soldier takes the form of a grim stoicism under pain. Some of the wounded endured the examination of their wounds with Spartan pluck They seemed to consider it above all things essential that they should not cry out *' until they were obliged." One enormous Irishman with a shattered thigh yelled out in agony as he was being lifted upon the operating table to be examined. The pain was evidently terrible and excuse enough for any degree of exclamation. But he apologised quaintly and profusely for the noise he made, urging as an excuse that ''he bad never been in a hospital before." He ex- pressed his regret much as a man would do who had wandered into a church with his hat on and who ex- cused himself on the ground that he had never been in a church before. Every patient took a lively interest in his own case, and especially in the removal of any bullet which may have lodged in any part of him. One ruddy youngster, a Devonshire lad, had had a shrapnel bullet through his leg, and the bullet could be felt, on the side opposite to the point of entry, under the unbroken skin. He begged that it should be taken out without chloroform, as he wanted to see it come out and to keep it and take it home. He sat up with his back against the tent pole during the operation, and watched the cutting out of the lead without a murmur. No doubt this Boer missile will find a place in a comer cupboard in some cottage among the delectable villages of Devon, and will be for long the wonder and admiration of devoted women folk. SOME TEMTS IN WM Uh'S. U Among other traits one notices that the soldier clings with great pertinacity to his few possessions, and especially to his boot^» When the haversack has been lost, and when the tunic has been cut up to make its removal more easy, or left behind because it is too blood-stained, there is little remaming in which the owner may bestow his goods unless it be in his boota There was one poor man I remember at Spearman's^ who was in great distress because, just m he was being sent down to the base, he had lost his soUtary boot He said it contained a puttie, a tin of jam, two shillings in money, and a bullet that had been taken out of hiuL These are no moan possessions. The puttie also is not lightly discardeil. If not used as a gaiter it is useful for many other purposes, and especially is it considered well to wind it round the abdomen as a cholera belt, for the soldier has great faith in anything in the way of a belt When the men were bathing together in hundreds at Springfield, there was an opportunity of seeing such variety in the matter of abdominal belts as could never have been dreauied of. Some of these favoured garments were mere shreds and rags, and were worn probably in order to keep faith with some good soul at homo who had made her boy promise he would never leave off his belt. Other binders were undoubtedly home-made, and the work of anxious mothers and wives who believed in red flannel and plenty of it Some of the belts were knitted and were made to be puUed on, bnt they had shrunk so much from repeated wettings and had become lit SUMJi: TRAITS IN TBE MEN, 80 infantile in their proportions that the owner of the garment had to get at least one comrade to help him pull it over his hip& When it was at last in place it quite constricted the body, and justified the comment of one bather who exclaimed to his belted but otherwise naked friend : " Well, ye've got a waist on ya, if nothink else!" 4;* TUK SIGN OF THE WOOMN C11088. FTER Colanso, No, 4 Stationary Field Hospital returned to the same quarters at Frere, and at Frere we remained until January 13th, 1900, nearly a montk The wounded who fell on the unhappy 15 th of December had beon satisfactorily disposed of, thanks to the admirable arrangements made by the Principal Medical Officer, Colonel Gallwey, C,B. Not a single wounded man was left out on the field on the night of the battle* On that particular Friday every man had been attended to before midnight, and on the following Sunday all the wounded who had fallen on the 15th were comfort- ably boused in one or other of the hospttab at the base. Our tents, although emptied of the woundod, soon began to be filled up with casae of sickness, and eepecially with eases of dysenterj*. lliose who presented the B%hte8t forms of the disease could be sent down to the base, but when the type was severe the patient did better with as little movement as possible. Those* therefore, who remained in our lines represented a laige proportion of examples of serious illness. 4^ ■ }fh: ^^,V OF 7BE WOOBSN CBOSS. Provisions were ftmple, medkal ueeesstl^ abundint, and the ladies of the C43I0QT wane mfinitelj kind in forwarding to Frere eomforts of all sorts. Our tents were by no itieans fi*'*-* **^ — * -- spits of what may be considered fayot] umb^ ihtte were a, good many deaths. m Deaths mean iha ing ground was mjnk close to the milwaj enclosure needed d came and fen-x^l it and gave it a tit asp© rand 4 litlb buiy- ^ tlm bospiul. "^ by ibe liule the ec^jiihaara lib a wiie piltngt Th« Qftmea of the ¥. dead were ini-T^d on tAbleus m wood, and now aiwl then the comrades of a man, or the survivors 01 the tent he died in. would erect over the mound a wooden cross. These crosses were made usually out of provision boxes, or perhaps from a whisky case, and many were very admin\bly tinished and very cleverly carved, and many were curious of design. They represented long hours spent in tedious hacking at a tough slab of wood with a pocket knife, and. alter that, infinite patience in the cutting out of the letters of the dead chums name- Finish w(»uld bo given to the lettering by means of a tin-opener. These cTos>es will l>e fouml all over the land of the war. Few vt them vrill lorn: survive the wind ;\nd the rain aiid the blisterinrr sun. and the hand of the Katfir who is laokinj of tuel. So long, however, as they dot the ^»'iirarv veldt thev will le symbols of the tenderest THK SIGN OF THE WOODEM CROSS, 4^ spirit of good comradeship, of the kindly heart of men who are supposed to be little imbued with sentiment, and of that loyal affection for his friend which is not among the least of the qualities of the British soldier. Here and there some elaborate monmnents with some promise of permanency have been erected. There is one, for example, in which the inscription is fashioned out of empty cartridge cases stuck into cement There is another carved with some art out of stona I think, however, that those will sleep best who lie beneath the wooden cross fashioned with labour and some occasional dinmess of eye by the pocket-knife of an old "paL" 4^ XIII. THK MEN WITH THE SPADES. HE graves at Frere were dug by our own men, or rather by a small fiftdgue party from a regiment near by. Nearly every morning they came, the men with the spadea There were six of them, with a corporal, and they came up jauntily, with their spades on their shoulders and with pipes in their mouths. They were in their shirt-sleeves, and there was much display of belt and of imbuttoned neck. Their helmets were apt to be stuck on their heads in infonual attitudes. They were inexpressibly imtidy, and they made in their march a loose, sham- bling suggestion of a procession. They came past my tent about breakfast time, and every morning I wondered whether the men with the spades would oome, sinoe^ when they oame» I knew that a death Iiad takim place in the ntghl aod wondered who it WIA^. Ab in mmn vmy ^nhah of diatli as dements in the ihii dead, the men with Iff iiiiiy, Tbey eame uo otttakirts of the any orderly he THE MEN WITH THE SPADES. il saw: "Well, nipper, how many have we got to dig to- day?" When they had finished, they went by my tent on their way back to camp : still the same untidy, sham- bling lot; still, as a rule, smoking, and still with the appearance of being infectiously cheerfiiL I know well enough, however, that there was little cheeriness among these men with the spades. They were dull enough in their inmost hearts. The soldier is much impressed by a burying, and by the formalities which surround the dead. And as he knows he must not "give way" he is prone to cover his easily stirred feelings by an attempt at a "devil-may-care" attitude, and by an assumption of rollicking indifference. It is, however, a poorly executed pretence, and it needed no exceptional acumen to see that in reality no small shadow of unhappiness followed the little shuffling pro- cession, in spite of their pipes and their jauntily posed helmets and their laboured jokes. If a soldier's grave is to be dug by sympathising hands, let it be dug by the hands of these very men with the spadea 4B ny 12th, Sir Redvers s, and on the following r second departure from I movement was to be to e eighteen mUes across t^ 4 Field Hospital was now to leave tne railway, and tnist to transport by oxen and mules. The hospital was equipped to accommodate a minimum of three hundred beds, and was made up of sixty tents and ten marquees. The rank and file of the R.A.M.C. numbered eighty-eight non- commissioned officers and men ; the staff wai^ represented by three army surgeons, nine civil surgeons, the two army sisters who had worked at Colenso, and my remaining nurse. Miss McCaul. The other nurse. Miss Tarr, who came out with me, was at Maritzburg, desperately ill wnth dysentery. She nearly lost her Hfe, and was scarcely convalescent when the time came for us to return to England. Her unexpected recovery was largely due to the skill of the doctor who looked after her (Dr. Rochfort Brown, of the Assembly Hospital), and to the extraordinary attention of those who nursed her, and especially to the kindness of a lady who was waiting at Pietermaritzburg BOYS. CArrr, and maffir TEE MJBCfflNa Ifl to join her husband, then locked up with his rogtment in Lad>*amith. The thraa oursos kept with the hospital, and did as good work at Speannan's Farm, after Spion Kop and Vaal Kmutz, and at Chieveley, after Pieters^ as they did on the occasion of Colenao, They had no easy time» for from the day we b^an at Frere until the luU after Ltidysmith we pitched the hospital no less than six times ; viz., twice at Frere, twice at Chieveley, once at Spearman's, and once at Springfield Our train was composed of sixteen ox waggons, each with sixteen oxen, so that the number of oxen employed was over 260* There were besides five ambulances, each drawn by ten mulea The transport provided mo consisted of a small covered waggon, a Scotch cart, sixteen mules, a conductor on horseback, four Kaffir " boys/' a groom, and my own horse and man servant. On the occasion of our leaving Frere on January 13th i we were roused at 3 a.ra., while it was yet quite dark, and while the Southern Cross was still ablaze in the sky* All the touts were struck by the ungonial hour of 4 am. Packing up and the circumstances of removal were con- ducted with difficulty, and no little confusion. The ox teams were lying about, and only a precarious light was furnished by the lanterns we carried. It required no exceptional carelessness to allow a wanderer in the camp to fall, in the course of a few minutes, over a prostrate ox, a rolled-up tent, a pannier, a pile of cooking pots, or a derelict saddle. When the dawn came an agreeable sense of order was restored, and we started on the march at 5 am, e 50 THE MARGE [NO. There was a splendid sunrise, and the day proved a glorious one, although it was painfully hot The road was a mere track across the veldt, which had been worn smooth in some places and cut into ruts in others by the hundreds of waggons and the great array of guns which had already pass^ over it. "No. 4" formed a long convoy by the time the last waggon had rumbled out of Frera The pace was very slow, for the ox moves with ponderous lethargy. The surgeons rode by the side of the train, the sergeants and the orderlies walked as they listed, and the nurses rode in ambulances, to the great shaking of their bodiea With us were a himdred coolies, who were attached to the hospital for camp work. They were a dismal crowd as they stalked along with their thin bare legs and their picturesque tatters of clothing, with all their earthly possessions in bundles on their heads, and with apparently a vow of funereal silence in their hearts. The heat soon became intense, and the march blank and monotonous. There were ever the same shadeless veldt, the same unending brown road, relieved by nothing but an occasional dead horse or mule ; the same creeping, creaking, wallowing waggons, the never-absent perspiring Kaffirs, the everlasting cloud of dust, and over all the blazing sun that neither hat nor helmet could provide shelter from. At 7.30 a.m. we reached a spot on the veldt known as Pretorius' Farm. It was marked by what was called, with reckless imagery, a stream, but which was repre- sented by a wide and squalid gutter filled with stagnant rnic uAmBWu M water which would have done no discredit to that tit the lower Thames. Here we outspaaned, and here w© breakfasted. Those breakfasts under the dome of Heaven are iiol to b© looked back upon with raptuia Picnicking is an excellent relaxation in England, but a picnic without shade, without cooling drinks, without pasties and sala^lft and jellies and pies, without white tablecloths and bright knives, without even shelter from incessant dust, Lick« much. Tinned provisions are, no doubt, ojccellent and nourishing, but oh* the weariness of them I And oh, the squalor of the single tin mug, which never loses the taito of what it last had in it ! And oh, the meanness of the one tin plate which does duty for every meal, and every phaae of itl Perhaps of all unappetising adjuncts to a breakfast the tin of preserved mUk, which has been opened two days and is already becoming disgustingly familiar, is the most aggressive. The hot cMmate and the indefatigable ant and the fly do little to make the items of a meal attractive. What does not rapidly decompose promptly dries up. On one occasion a roasted fowl was brought up reverently to Frere in a tin box, but when it came to be eaten it had dried into a sort of papier niAchi roast fowl, and waa like the viands which are thrown at the police at pantn- mimes. We brought many varieties of preserved food with us, and of much of it the question could not fail to arise as to whether it had ever been worth preserving. Many had experience, too, of the inventive art of the shopkeeper aa shown in the evolution of canteens and H 11 THB MAROHING. pocket table knives. The canteen, when unstrapped, tends to Mi into a hundied parts, and can never be put together again. It is a prominent or generic feature of most canteens that the kettle should look as little like a kettle as possible, and that everything should pack into a fiying-pan. The pocket picnicking knifiB contains a knife, a fork, a spoon, and a corkscrew, llie fork runs into everything and prevents the knife from being carried in the pocket The spoon and fork are jointed for more convenient stowing, and at crises in a meal they are apt to bend weakly in the middle and then to incon- tinently shut up. The outspanning and the inspanning at Pretorius' Farm occupied over two hours, and then the march was resumed. A better country was reached as we neared the river, and it was a pleasant sight to see the tumbling stream of. the Lesser Tugela, and to find in one valley the pretence of a garden and a house among trees. This was at Springfield, which place we reached at 2.30 p.m. The march of some eighteen miles had therefore been effected in two treks. At Springfield the camping ground was the least dreary of any the hospital had experience of, and the proximity of the Lesser Tugela made bathing possible. After a few days at Springfield we moved on to Spearman's Farm, where we camped by the hill called Mount Alice. The return from Spearman's after Spion Kop and Vaal Krantz was even more monotonous than the going forth. The first journey was to Springfield, which was reached w. rf». ».f^\ THE FIELD MOSf>ITJLt ON THE MAffCK, 1 i 7EE UJlRCHISG. ^5 at simdown, and wbere we farrooadced for tlw niglit. SpringfifM vas left al dawn, and tlw next ni^t was spent in a biraaac at FrereL On tlie feDowing day, bdbre the sun was weQ up, we took the last stage ^ the march and reached Chievekj. Here all enjoyed once more the himiy of haTii^ tents overiiead, for dmi^g the crawling jomney over the Teldt we slept in waggons, on waggcMos, or under waggons. Sk under the mimosa- GOYB rluch dominate the Greai the lonely homestead of S TDh Those who butlfc it axiu iuaae a nome in it could have had little thought that it would ono day figure in the annals of history: The farm house and the farm buildings and the garden were enclosed by a rough stone wall, and upon this soUtary homestead the hand of the Boer had fallen heavily. The house had been looted, and what was breakable in it had been broken. The garden had been trampled out of recognition, the gates were gone, the agricultural implements had been wantonly destroyed, and the un- pretending road which led to the fann was marked by the wheels of heavy guns. The house was small and of one storey, and was possessed of the unblushing ugliness which corrugated iron alone can provide. The door swung open, and any could enter who would, and through the broken windows there was nothing to be seen but indiscriminate wreckage. There was about the little house and its cluster of outbuildings a suggestion of the Old Country, and it wanted but a rick or so, and SPEAEMAWS FARM. :r. a pond with white ducks, to complete the picture of a small English farm. The garden had evidently been the subject of solicitous care, and was on that account all the more desolate, and what delight it ever had had been trampled out of it by countless hoofs or obliterated by the rattling passage over it of a battery or so of artillery. At the back of the farm, and at the foot of a green kopje, was a quaint little burial ground — httle because it held but two graves, and quaint because these were sur- mounted by unexpected stone memorials of a type to be associated with a suburban English cemetery. These monuments were fitly carved, and were distinctly the product of no mean town, and they were to the memory respectively of George Spearman and of Susan Spearman. For some undetinable reason these hnished memoriais, so formal and so hackneyed in their design, appeared in- appropriate and even unworthy of the dignity of the lonely graves at the foot of the kopje. Some more rugged emblem, free from artiticiaUty and from any suggestion of the crowded haunts of men, would have covered more fittingly tho last resting-place of these two pioneers. A few trees, almost the only trees witliin sight, shaded the little graveyard, and the trees and the monuments were enclosed by a very solid iron railing. It was in the shadow of this oasis that the dead from our hospital were buried* SB XVI THK HOaFrrAL at SPEARSCAIf'i*. JHE hospit^ reached Speannan's on Januaiy 16th, and was pitched at the foot of the hill, upon the summit of which the naval gun was firing. We were, therefore, close to those scenes of fightmg which were to occupy the next few weeks, and too close for comfort to the great 4*7 gun, the repeated booming of which often became a trouble to those who ware lying ill in the hospitai The heights that dominated the southern bank of the Tugela were veiy steep on the side that faced the river, but on the side that looked towards Spearman's the ground sloped gradually down into a wide plain which, like other stretches of veldt, was dotted with kopjes and slashed with dongas. Anyone who mounted the hill at the back of the hospital woidd come by easy steps to an abrupt ridge, beyond which opened a boundless panorama. In the valley below this crest was the winding Tugela, and jnst across the dip rose the solemn ridge of Spion Kop. Far away in the distance were the purple hills which overshadowed Ladysmith. If the crest were followed to the right the ground rose until at last the summit of the naval hill was reached, and here were the " handy ^^m^ "^ 1 / • j men" and their big gun. From this high eminence a splendid view was obtained of the country we desired onoe more to possess. The Tugela glistened in the sun like a band of silver, and over the plain and in and out among the kopjes and round the dongas the brown road wound to Ladjsmith. The road was deserted, and the few homesteads which came into view showed no signs of life. At the foot of the hill was Potgieter s Ihnft, while above the ford was a splashing rapid, and below was the pont which our men had seized with such daring. The face of the hill towards the river was covered with mimosa trees and with cactus bushes and aloes, and this unexpected wealth of green almost hid the red and groy boulders which clung to the hillside Among the rooks were many strange flowers, many unfamiliar plants, and creeping things innumerable. This was a favourite haunt of the chameleon, and I believe it was here that the hospital chameleon was captured. The quiet of the place, when the guns had ceased, was absolute, and was only broken by the murmur of the numerous doves which occupied the mimosa woods. The whole place seemed a paradise of peace, and thero was nothing to suggest that thero wero some thousands of grimy men beyond the river who were busy with the implements of death. On looking closely one could see brown lines along many of the hillsides, and these said lines were trenches, and beforo the hubbub began men in their shirt-sleeves could be seen working about them with pickaxes and shovels. o8 THE JIOSriTAL AT SPEARMAN'S, I should imagine that few modem battles have been viewed by the casual onlooker at such near proximity and with such completeness in detail as were the engagements of Spion Kop and Yaal Erantz, when viewed firom the high ground above our hospital The hospital, although now more than twenty-five miles from the railway, was very well supplied with almost every necessity and with the amplest stores of food. Bread was not to be obtained, or only on occasion, when it would be brought up by an ambulance on its return from Frere. We had with us, however, our flocks and herds, and were thus able to supply the sick and woimded with fresh milk, and the whole hospital with occasional fresh meat We were a little short of water, and fuel was not over abundant As a result, the washing of clothes, towels, and sheets presented the same type of problem as is furnished by the making of bricks without straw. The aspect of a flannel shirt that has been washed by a Kaffir on the remote veldt leaves on the mind the impression that the labour of the man has been in vain. Our stay at Spearman's was extended to three weeks, and we dealt with over a thousand wounded during that period, and I am sure that all those who came within our lines would acknowledge that at " No. 4 " they found an unexpected degree of comfort and were in every way well " done for." On the Sunday after our arrival the wounded b^an to oome in. Thirteen only came from the division posted at FMgi«tar*A Drifts the rest came from Sir Charles Warren's coIuniiL Increasmg uu tubers oi woundad came in every THE HOSPITAL AT SPEARMAN'S. ,V.> day in batches of from fifty to one hundred and fifty. They were all attended to, and were sent on to Frere as soon as possibla All the serious cases, however, were kept in the hospital eo xvn. THE TWO WHITB UOHTS. lANY of tbe wounded wbo were broo^t in between the 18th and the 24th of Jannaiy came in after sundown. The laigest number amved on the night at Mondaj, ihe 22nd. It was a Toy dark n^ht Thd outline of the tents and manjuees was shadowy and funt The camp was but the ghost of a camjn Here and there a fedde li^t would be shinii^ through the fly of a marquee, and here and there an orderiy, piddi^ his way auKx^ the tent T€jfes by the aid of a lanteni, would light up a row or two in the little canvas town. In the firont of the camp was the flagsta£^ high up upon wfakh were suspended the two white li^ts irihidi marked the sitaatioQ of the hoqpitaL These lanq^ only sufficed toiDnminem lew of the tents in the fint Una Tbe fl^pa of thase tents were probabty secured and the ooeupairta aalaflpL It WHia imaj jiwumji to die henital, and one imagme with what eigKMas the tired, htm^y, would feok ahiAd fat the twn ^: l^ta^ in {Hon en * cniw&^ os viggun, or ,. ^ 1 in the iipd bisat of an ambukooe^ the «ay most ha^ seamed Tttmh&qi ak»^ m the dafk. with no sound TSM TWO WMiT3 MQEW, 61 but the creaking of the waggon and the incessant moans of the shapeless, huddled figures who were lying in the cart, the journey might well have been one never to bo forgotten How many a time a tired head must have been lifted up from the straw to see if there were yet any sign of the two white lights. Would the journey never end, and the pain never cease ? and was the broken Unjb to be irrenched every time the blundering waggon pitched and rolled ? And why had the man who had talked so much ceased to speak — and indeed to breathe ? Would they drive through the dark for eternity ? and would they never come in view of the two white lights ? It was a miserable sight to see these belated wi^ons come in, and they would often rumble in all night. They emei^ed one by one out of the darkness and drew up in the open space between the two central lines of tents, and between the few uplifted lanterns held by the sergeants and the men on duty. After they had deposited their load they moved away, and vanished again into the night. Some of the wounded in the waggons were sitting up, but the majority were Ijring on the straw with which the waggon would be Uttered- Some were asleep and some were dead; and by the light of the lanterns the waggon seemed full of khaki-coloured bundles, vague of outline, and much stained with blood, with here and there an upraised bandage, and here and there a wandering hand, or a leg in cmde splints, or a bare knee. And round about all a medley of rifles, boots, haversacks, helmets, cartridge pouches, and dn canteena was lying who had been very hard hit, ai evidently become weaker and less conscic waggon had rolled along. The apparent man moved, and, lifting his head to look who was sitting above him, asked wearily, i the fiftieth time, "Don't you see nothing 3 the two white lights ? " m XVIIL AFTER nnOH KOP. |N Wednesday, January 24th. came tlie terrible affair of Spioti Kop. On the previous day some hint of what was expected was foreshadowed in the order that AH additionftl hundred bell tents were to be erected in No. 4 Field Hospitftl. These tents were obtained from a brigiide who were bivouauking, and were all pitched by Wednesday afternoon. They represented accomtnodation for an additional number of 6ve hundred woundedj and it was, therefore, evident that an im- portant engag^enient was at hand. On Thursday the w^ounded came pouring in, and they came in the whole day and until late at night, until the hospital wtxs full The number admitted on that day was nearly six hundred Those who were deposited in the beU touts had to lie on stretchers. AH were provided with blanketsi In spite of the immense number of the wounded, they were all got mider shelter by Thursday night, and had had their more serious injuries attended to, and were made as comfortable as circumstances would admit Some of • * \yl.OCIrl/IVt9 xjL luiiea-up tunics. The volunteer ambulance corps and the cool did excellent service. The larger number of the were on the top of Spion Kop. The path c about two miles, was steep, and in places very The carriage of the wounded down the hill had by hand. From the foot of the hill to the hot carriage was by ambulance waggons and in soi by bearers. All the stretchers had hoods. Thei doubt that the wounded suffered much on ac the tedious transport, but it ¥ras rendered as 1: tressing as possible. The surgeons who went after the wounded top of the hiU told us that the sight of the d injured was terrible in the extreme, the wounds been mostly from shell and shrapnel ; some n been blown almost to pieces. The weather on day was warm, but was not to be compared v intense heat on the day of the battle of Colons temperature was that of a hot summer's England. Thursday was fortunately cloudy anc cooler. As to the wounded, there was the usual pr of minor ininriAo v»iif ^.^ ^u- -^^ ^ L« ^ 1^ s! 4 *»-». _ ^ ImSt .^- M ^ EF . ^^ ^^^ Sn^ ' ,: TM n^ / ' 1- Mlki . / 4* ^ h _^ - \ ^^B- ^^W i ^^ 4 ^^^^^_ .^ ^ s 4 ^^^U d AN AMBULANCE WAGOON. i^af 4 p, M. I AFTER SriON' K01\ i>f} mn^h more severe than those received at Colenso. This «■. explained by the large number of wounds from shell and shrapnel The men, moreover, were much exhausted by the hardships they had undergone. In many instances they had not had their clothes off for a week or ten days. They had slept in the open without great -coata, and had been reduced to the minimum in the matter of rations. The nights were cold, and there was on nearly every night a heavy dew. Fortunately t^ -^ was little or no rain. The want of sleep and the 1 ^g waiting upon the hill had told upon them severcAj. There is no doubt also that the incessant shell tire must have proved a terrible strain. Some of the men, although wounded, were found asleep upon their stretchers when brought ia Many were absolutely exhausted and worn out independently of their wounds. In spite of all their hard behaved as splendidly as th never complained. They ips the wounded men •Iways have done. They juite touching in their y "not to give trouble"; fct they wore mu '^«- «st terrible and ^ad p the unselfishness and in their ^ but it was evident enou pressed at the reversa The shell wounds wer most difficult to treat C..^ &ce shot away, including both eyea ^ii^ forearm shot off and two fearful wounds ot dividing the anterior muscles to the bone. ^ case a shrapnel had opened a main artery in the iotw arm, and the man came down safely widi a tourniquet F 06 AFTEU 8FI0N KOP. on his brachial arteiy composod of a plug of cake tobacco and the tape ot a puttie. I cannot help think- ing that this ingenious tourniquet was the work of one of the " handy men*" t^jQ^^ !s^ r XIX. tflE STOKY or THE UKSTLESS SCAN* j HE following mcident may serve to illus- trate the often -expressed unselfishness of the soldier, and his anidety to do what he can for a comrade in troubla Among the woimded who came down firom Spion Kop was a private, a native of Lancashire, who had been shot in the thigh. The thigh-bone was broken, and the fracture had been much disturbed by the journey to the hospital The man was given a bedstead in one of the marquees ; the limb was adjusted temporarily, and he was told to keep very quiet and not to move off his back Next morning, howoTeri he was found lying upon his face, with his limb out of position and his splints, as he him- self confessed, '" all anyhow." He was remonstrated with, but excused himself by saying, "But you see, doctor, I am such a restless man/* The limb was more elaborately adjusted, and every- thing was left in excellent positioa Next morning, however, the restless man was found lying on the floor of the marquee, and in his bed was a man who bad been shot through the chest The marquee was crowded and the number of beds was few, and those who could not bo accommodated on beds had to lie on stretchers t>S mtJ BTOHY OF rSB BMSTLESS MAX. on the ground. The man who was shot in the chest had come in in the night, and had been placed on the only avaikhla stretcher The restless man prooeeded te explain that the newcomer seemed worse oflF than he was, and that he th'*"'*^* *^^ *^%n would be easier on a bed, so ho had change. The man denly, and in due t^ his own bed once i It was not. howe^ visit the Lancftshire and again beamed ft wounded on the gro to be very bad and i 1 He hi rderlies to effect the in the chest died sud- less man was back in ►r on another morning i on the floor again, ation that one of the come in late, seemed nged over. The pres- ent occupant of the bed was m a few days moved down to the base, and the restless man was in his own bed again. But not many days elapsed before he discovered among the fresh arrivals an old chum who longed to lie on a bed, and thus the good-hearted North-countryman found himself once more on the floor. The moving of a man with a broken thigh from a bed to the ground and back again means not only such disordering of splints and bandages, but much pain to the patient and no little danger to the damaged hmb. So this generous lad was talked to seriously, and with a faintly- veiled sternness was forbidden to give up his bed again on any pretence. In the little attempt he made to excuse himself, he returned once more to his original joke and said, with a broad grin : " But you see, doctor, I am such a restless man." «l **DID WE WIN ' NE infitance of the indoniilable pluck of the British soldier deserves special notica A private in the King's Rojal Rifles, of th© name of Goodman, was brought from Spion Kop to No. 4 Field Hospital in an ambulance with many others. He was in a lamentable plight when he arrived He had been lying on the hiU all night He bad not had his clothes off for six days. Rations had been scanty, and ha had been sleeping in the open since he left the camp. He had been struck in the face by a fragment of shell which had carried away his right eye, the right upper jaw, the corresponding part of the cheek and mouth, and had left a hideous cavity at the bottom of which his tongue was exposed* The rest of his face was streaked with blood, which was now dried and black — ^so black that it looked as if tar bad been poured on his head and hud streamed down his cheek and neck Eight hours had been occtipied on the journey to the hospital, and eight hours is considered to be long even for a railway journey in a Pullman car. He was unable to speak, and as soon as he was settled in a tent he made signs that he wanted to write. A little 70 "mn WB wiNf' memorandum book and a pencil were handed to him, and it was supposed that his inquiry would be as to whether he would die — what chance he had ? Could he have something to drink? Could anything be done for his of wetting hia pencil I simply wrote : '' Did ^ him the truth, is in my possession — Led speechless in the tnade in it,^ and which elves ; — pam ? After going th-"'™^ *^ at what had once b^ we win ? " No one 1 His memoranduDi was used by him ^ hospital, and certain are here appended, i " Water." "I haven't dona 1 " I've got it this tuiia I cmnk my right eye is gone, and I can hardly swallow." ** There are no teeth in front." "It aches a lot." " I'm lying the wrong way for my wound." "I found the trenches." " I've had all the officers over to see me." *' He is pleased, the doctor." '' Did my haversack come with me ? If it did, there is some tobacco in it. You can give it to them that smoke." Poor Goodman, he had no mouth to smoke with him- self I am glad to say he reached England, is in good health, and is as cheery as ever. 71 XXL THE PIOHTINQ SPIRIT. HE circamstances under which men enlist in the Army are, no doubt, varied enough. But not a few find their place under the colours in obedience to that fighting spirit which has ior centuries been strong in the hearts of the islanders from Great Britaio and Ireland That spirit has anyhow carried the colours over the world. Among the wounded there were many who, to use an expression common on the soldiers' lip, "were fed up with the war : *' they had had enough of it* There were others who were eager to be at it again, who felt that tliey had a score to wipe off; and even among the desperately hurt there would be here and there a man keen for revenge, imd full of a passionate desire **to have another go at 'em,** These men, ill as they often were, would describe with a savage delight, and in savage language, the part they had played in the battle out of which they had been finally dragged on a stretcher, A little success, a victory however small, did much to lessen the tonnent of a wound and to gild the contem- plation of a life henceforth to be spent as a cripple. One gallant lad had been paralysed by a Mauser at ^J/k>/i»vwn y \*'u-/^mt>t,nfi> J^^^^TJ lA^T UUl ".IffH lift 1«*IIIL z^/;;^ a^vx/a aa "^nr^ «ut v^ji -iaftia Huin i. sab j^yuii^». /<»#/V^^^4/,n ' Taa7 */^ /srj'.iXKr X 2iiv. * Bd se- ^^^A r.AiTA ir^ry/,-1! rAfW.y %*miyt mil 'iii^y wias. TTiitfgrf. i^^r^ ^AA ^/f^/ r/r Krfic '^.r^jwr* 'iuR !±^ Tnae ^ duu ^^pfAAfr^ ^/'W '♦'.A /^*j f^r/',Ar*fji hy the rrrer. /rf^A f#p/i»*. 'i'l**'' r.Tisi of wlwu m^y pass throogk 0f^ mMkm'% iittf*^ #lf#ftftf 11^ k/xn^ drr^tunsunces of war ««ir^ 0tftitti*4 >rf fhm fifJUrTMi/;^ uld be various useful one man would be a saucepan, to a third a m would have in the I suspended by a cord, or a hatchet and a tm-opener, v^ a spare pair of boots, which swung bravely as he marched. A popular vade Tnecwm was an empty jam tin (much blackened by the smoke of the camp fire) with a wire handle, and evidence that it represented a cooking-pot. Belts, knives, sticks, overcoats, rolled-up mackintoshes, and a general tint of sunburn and dirt completed the uniform of this strange company. Before they entered the camp the wounded had been brought out on stretchers. The stretchers were placed on the grass, side by side, in long rows which extended across the breadth of the hospital The men lying on them were not pleasant to look at. They formed a melancholy array of '* bad cases." Each man was covered by a brown blanket, and within the hood of the stretcher were his special belongings, hLs boots and his haversack, and, with them, such delicacies for the journey as a pot BHmNG THEM OFF. m of jam, a chunk of bread, some biscuits, a himp of tinned meat in a newspaper, and bottles (mostly with paper corks) containing water or milk or tea* Those on the stretchers presented bandaged legs and bandaged arms^ splints of all kinds, cover©d-up eyes and boimd*i]p heads, and the general paraphernalia of an accident ward Some of tbo faces were %ery pinched and pale» for pain and loss of blood and exhauKtion had caused the sunburn to fade away. The light of the dawn fell upon this woe-bcgone line, and dazzled the eyes of tnany with the unaccustomed glare. Those who were not too ill were in excellent spirits, for thia was the first step on tho jounioy home- wards. Such were excited, garrulous and jocular, and busy with pipes and tobacco, A few were already weary, and had on their lips the oft-repeated expression that *' they were fed up with the war/' Many a head was lifted out of the hood to see if any old chum coidd be recognised along the line, and from those would come such exclamations as : " Why are ymi here, Tom ? ** '* Where hare you got hit ? " " Ain*t this a real bean- feast?" "Thought you were stiff." *■ We're on the blooming move at last:' Many of the men on the stretchers were delirious, and soma were almost unmanageabia One poor fellow was babbling about the harvest and the time they were having. He was evidently in his dream once more among the cornfields of England, and among plenteous been Another shook the canvas hood of his stretcher and declared with vehemence that he ''would not go in any bally sailing '<-2. smiiimG 'ruBM off. boat, he was going in a steamer, and the colonel would never let his men go in a rotten sailing ship." Whereupon he affirmed that "he was going to chuck it," and pro- ceeded to effect his purpose by rolling off his stretcher. When the Volunteer Ambulance Corps marched along the line of stretchers they were the subject of much chaff, and many comments such as these burst forth: "You're being paraded before the General So buck up ! " " Pull up yer socks." "You with the kettle! Do you take yourself for a gipsy van ? " " We ain't buying no hard- ware to-day — ^go home." " You know there's a Government handicap on this job and half-a-crown to the man who gets in first, so you had better hurry my stretcher along." And so on; in the dialect of London, of Dublin, of Lancashire, and of Devon, with infinite variety and with apparent good spirits. There were many anxious cases among this crowd on the stretchers. One, for example, was an Irishman named Kelly, a private in the Lancashire Fusiliers. He was as plucky a soldier as the plucky soil of Ireland has ever produced. His right arm had been smashed on Spion Kop. He had been on the hill two nights; and when the darkness fell had spent his time in crawling about on the ground, holding the sleeve of his shattered arm between his teeth, dragging his rifle with his left hand, and searching the bodies of the dead for any water that may have been left in their water-bottles. He had lost an incredible amount of blood, and when he reached the hospital it was necessary to amputate the whole upper limb, including the shoulder-blade and collar-bona He SEEING THEM OFF. «3 went through this ordeal with infinite courage and with irrepressible good humour. He had been the strong man of his regiment and a great boxer, and, as he casually said, "He should miss his arm." Kelly's spirits were never damped, and he joked on all topics whenever he had the strength to joke. He was a Uttle difficult to manage, but was as docile as a lamb in the hands of the Sister who looked after him, and for whom he had a deep veneration. Nothing in the ordinary way upset this gallant Irishman, but just before the convoy started he did for once break down. Two bottles of Ebiglish beer had found their way into the camp as a precious gift. Kelly was promised these bottles to take with him on his journey. In due course they were deposited in the hood of his stretcher. When his eyes fell upon the delectable vision of English beer he could stand no more, and Kelly wept. I little thought when I saw Kelly oflF at Spearman's that the next time I should say good-bye to him would be in a hansom cab in Pall Mall; but so it was. When all was ready the stretchers were lifted oiBF the ground in order, and the bearers filed out of the camp and on to the dusty track. The morning was like that of a summer's day in England, and we watched the long convoy creep along the road until it was nearly out of sight The perfect quiet of their de- parture was only broken by the oft-repeated boom of the naval gun on the hill XXIV. A nf itbs at Spear man 'e, >mid was under the nip of trees which >f Spearman's Farm, f place I have already I died were carried morii ary tent, and there each body was se\^Ti up by the coolies in the brown iirmy blanket or in a sheet. The sewing was after the manner of the sewing up of a package. The brown blanket, how- ever, formed but a poor covering at the last, and it made little mystery of what it shrouded. Beneath its tightly- dra\vn folds there was shadowed something that was still a man, for was there not the clear outline of head and chin and shoulders and feet ? When the body was ready it was brought out of the tent, placed upon a stretcher, and carried to the grave. Over the bodies of the oflScers was thrown the Union Jack, but the bodies of the soldiers were covered only by the brown blanket or the sheet. There was one funeral which I have in mind, on the occasion of which eight were buried — eight who had been struck down on Spion Kop — four non-commissioned officers and four men. * FliNEI^AL kr fePEAnMAN'ft. IV* r.ti I y A FUNBRAL AT SPKAHUAN\S, 85 The funeral party drew up near to the mortuary- tent, and halted there in precise nulitary formation. There was the firing party, who went first, with inverted rifles ; then came the bearers, and then a small company from the r^ments of the dead. Some little way off stood a cluster of men who had come, in a shy, apologetic sort of way, to see the last of their pals. They seemed to think that their presence near by the formal procession was an intrusion, and they huddled together, some ten of them, at a distanca From their attitudes one inferred that they did not wish to be considered as taking any part in the funeral They were pretending to be merely onlookers. They were restless, and disposed to shuffle with their feet, or they kicked the earth up absently with the toes of their boots. Some of the ten kept their eyes fixed upon the mortuary-tent, to watch the bodies come out. As each of the blanket-covered objects was brought from the tent into the sunlight there were murmured comments firom this small knot of untidy men — these men who did not want to look like mourners, but who were mourners indeed. "That's surely Ginger," says one of the number, pointing to the body last brought out "No, that ain't Ginger," says his companion. "Ginger never had a chest on him like that That's more like Jimmy Evans. Jimmy held hisself like that often." So they talked, and they kept up fairly well this pretence at a casual conversation. But some could not trust themselves to speak and these kept their backs to the tent and kicked at the earth absentlj. Those who took part in the apparent nonchalaDt talk had struggle, I think, to keep their voices from breaking and their eyes from becoir^''"- '^•™ '^^i ** things'' they were bringing out of the I i blankets, had once been men, who had, ad with them, who probably hailed from in the Old Country, and who were the bm memories. When all the be y and the stretchc^rs in line, the procession marched slowly and silently round t.he ko] the glade that led to the trees by Spearmai m. But for the tents of a tar*off camp the vrfdt was a desert There was scarcely a human being in sight. There was none of the pomp of a soldier's burial ; no funeral march ; no awed crowd ; no tolhng of bells ; no group of weeping women in black clothes ; no coffin borne on a gun-carriage and distinguished by the helmet and accoutrements of the dead. There were only the eight bundles in the brown blankets on the eight stretchers. And some little way in the rear were the slouching company of the ten, who did not want to be regarded as mourners, and who, with occasional " sniffing," and perhaps a surreptitious wiping of eyes with a shirt cuff, were shuffling along with a poor affectation of in- difference. In due course the last resting-place is reached, and here are eight separate graves in a line, and at the head of them stands the chaplain. He has on a college cap, a white surplice, riding breeches and putties. He reads A FUNKBAL AT SVEABMAJN'S. X7 the service ¥rith the ulmoBt impressiyeness. The men who form the firing party and the escort are ranged round the place of burial in precise military lines, and, in spite of the blazing sun, every head is bared. The words of the chaplain alone break the silence, although now and then there comes across the plain the boom of the naval gun. And here, under the dazzUng sky of Africa, and at the foot of a kopje on the veldt, the eight dead are laid in the ground. There are no onlookers except myself and the little group of the ten. They stand in a cluster at a respect- ful distance. Their heads are bare, and more than one man has hidden his face in his helmet, while others have turned their heads away so that their mates shall not see their eyea Their pretence at indifference and at having been drawn to the funeral by mere curiosity is now of the very slenderest As the graves are being filled up the funeral party marches back to the camp with a brisk step. The slovenly ten, who are not taking the part of mourners, scatter. They wander off in twos and threes, and they have become curiously silent Some have dragged out pipes from their pockets, and are filling them absently. One is whistling an incoherent fragment of a tune. They look towards the horizon, and perhaps see nothing but the barren veldt, or perhaps they see a familiar village in England, and within a cottage in the small street the figure of a woman with her face buried in her handa the British soldier le to thtDk that he deserve the title of ad." The average t, the most anxious gings, and although that ansiety may have been obscured or even dissipated by the boisterous incidents which at- tend an embarkation for the Cape, still when he reaches camp his mind is much occupied with recollections of the people at home, and with concern for their well- being. Among the wounded were always those whose first anxiety was as to the effect the news of their injuries would have upon mothers, sweethearts, or wives. And many a message of consolation was confided to the sympathising ears of the Sisters, and many a letter of assurance was laboriously written by those who had the strength to write. In the matter of letters the soldier takes profound interest He writes whenever he has the chance, and makes a great deal of fiiss about the performance. To most of those in camp the posting of a letter home is A BSBNT-mNDBDNJilSS. Si an event, and so precious is the pencilled epistle, that the writer will hesitate before he commits it to the casual sack which is tied up to the fly of the post-office tent, and which appears scarcely formal or official enough to receive the dirt-stained despatch. For such despatches, nothing less pretentious than a post-office building or an iron letter-box seem fitting. Many a time have I seen a letter dropped into the sack with such an expression of insecurity, and such evident feeling of hopelessness as to its safe conduct, that the writer of the same has appeared to regret that he had parted with it. A post-office official in his shirt- sleeves, with a pipe in his mouth and a helmet on the back of his head, seems hardly to be responsible enough for the occasion ; and if the letter- writer would venture to express a hope that his elaborately directed letter " would be all right," the post-office deity is apt to regard this concern with flippancy. " There's the sack ! Chuck the blooming thing in. It won't break," was about all the comfort he would get. The receipt of letters from home, also, was attended with an eagerness which was hardly fitting in an absent- minded man. The sergeant with the bundle of letters would read out the names on the envelopes in a military voice, ferociously and without feeling, and each man who got a missive grabbed it and marched ofl' with it with the alacrity of a dog who has got a bone. If he ' could find the shelter of a waggon where the letter could be read unobserved it was well The letters dictated to the Sisters in the hospital m> A mENT^Mimi^BNESB. were apt to be a little formaL It seemed to be thought proper that expression should be curbed, and that the sensibiUties of the Sister should be in no way shocked by the revelation of a Inv^ imsL*tft<3P«, One djring man, who was dictating a letl like to send with i. answer to the Sip write, modestly sai There need hii wording of these ki of the letter " suifff the Sisters cried ov< When a woundea i. ler, thought he would [8 to ''his girl," and in s to what she should ay kmd regards/' recise decorum in the ranees, for if the sender he dictate the message, to be stripped it was common to find some precious keepsake or some secret package hung about his neck, and to which he clung with the earnestness of a worshipper to his fetish. One man, particularly, was much more anxious about a locket that hung on his hairy chest than he was about his wound. He seemed to think that so long as the cheap little trinket was not lost his life mattered little. In the operation-tent he was reluctant to take chloroform until a solemn promise had been given that no harm should befall his locket, and that it should not be removed from his neck. I am afraid that the history of the locket ends here, for the loyal man died. Among the wounded brought in one day from Pot- gieter's Drift was a man of scanty clothing, who held something in his closed hand. He had kept this treasure in his hand for some eight hours. He showed it to the Sister. It was a ring. In explanation he said, " My girl ABSENT.MINJDEDyESS. n gave me this ring, and when I was hit I made up my mind that the Boers should never get it, so I have kept it in my fist, ready to swallow it if I was taken before our stretchers could reach me." ry 11th, No. 4 Field [>re reached Chievaley, march from Speannan's I has been made. The j ^hed near the station, and not far from the spot it had occupied on the day of the battle of Colenso. Chieveley is represented only by a railway station and a station-master's house. There are, however, many euca- lyptus trees about these buildings, and the spot is shady. The ground stands high, and miles of undulating country are open to view. There are a Kaffir kraal or two in sight, and many mimosa groves, and beyond them all the line of the river. Chieveley, therefore, as a camp, was well esteemed. The sojourn at Chieveley began with that terrible fourteen days of incessant fighting which ended in the taking of Pieters and the reUef of Ladysmith. Every day at sunrise the guns began, and it was not until sunset that they ceased. Any who looked up from their work in the camp, and turned their eyes towards Umbulwana, would seldom fail to see the flash of a lyddite shell on the far-off* ridges, or, clear against the blue sky, the white A Bn*GADE MAACNINQ OUT AT CKieVCifV FOR TMe ATTACK UI»ON PlFTEft^. PAlftlNA THB FIELD MOi^lTAk^ AT GSTMWBtiEY Af,AL\ n puff of cloud from a sfarapoeL Every day the wounded carae in. mostly towards eyening. Fortunately their numbers were few. The days had again become very hot and very trying* It was weather which the soldier is apt to describe, in the vivid language of hiis kind, as weather *'when a man should have his body in a pool and hia head in a public-house ! " Standing in the station at Chieveley was commonly to be seen the armoured train. Whatever iron plates covdd do to make a structure indestructible had been done ; but to such beauty as a railway train may possess nothing had thereby been added Tho sailors had, however, been busy with the engine of the train. The engineers had given it the outline of a square gasometer, but the "handy man " had covered the disfigured machine with ropes aa with a garment From the top of the funnel a veil of closely placed ropes trailed to the grotmd. A like panoply of ropes covered the body of the engine, and its wheels, and its cylinders, and its every detail The officers called this production the " Russian poodle," but the soldiers gave it the name of " Hairy Mary ** ; and this name clung to it During the movement to Spearm^i's, Chieveley had been carefully fortified. A space round the stfition had been marked off by a very deep wire entanglement Trenches had been dug, and some sort of a fort thrown up. There were entrenchments about the station-master^s mild little house, and before the windows were erected iron plates with loopholes such as were used on the trucks of the armoured train. Similar iron plates formed IH AT UtnSWELEY AGAitT. a barricade along th6 modest verandah, and the result of it all was that the small unobtrusive hou^e was made to look fierce and truculent The few bare rooms were used by tho Headquarters Staff, and the rough tabl^ and stools were li " ^ ''^ ^' arts of war-Hie para- phernalia. Amonfc af battle, murder* aad sudden death wen jecta which had been left behind by the ad which seemed out of place. One was iid the other a dress- maker's lay figure * bird was stuck upon the wreck ^ if the I atared amiably and foolishly from its y ist" was life-size, and suggested the torso m iroman, with a little polished knob for a nead. it may have at one time graced the salon of a Parisian dressmaker. It was, how- ever, now no longer used to show oflf dresses, trimmings and flounces, for a helmet surmounted the graceful chest, and belts, carrying pistols and swords, hung from the fine shoulders or clung to the delicate waist "HAIflV MJ^WV" *T CWtevCLEY. raf* p,U. 95 XXVII. A JOURNEY TO LADYSMITH. [ENERAL BULLER reached Ladysmith on March 1st, and on Friday, March 2nd, I had the good fortune to enter the town. The journey was not accom- pUshed without difficulty. It was neces- sary to follow the road the army had taken, as the main road was not known to be free from the enemy, and moreover, the bridge leading to it had been blown up. The distance from Chieveley to Ladysmith by the route taken was between twenty-three and twenty-four miles. I took my covered cart (called in the camp the " *bus "), with ten mules and two Kaffir " boys." A man rode in front to pick out the road. With me came my remaining nurse, Miss McCaul, and Mr. Day, an army chaplain. We took pro- visions, water, and forage for two days. We left Chieveley at 6.30 am., and the first part of the journey was across the battlefield of Colenso. The road then became very rough, ran over ridges and down into dongas, over boulders and deep into ruts, so that the mules would now be at a fair trot and now dragged to a standstill At last we reached the hill commanding m; A jimiiNET TO LAnrsynnL the pontoon bridge over the Tugela At the top of this precipitous height was the mighty convoy of ox-waggons with food for LadysmitL The waggons could be counted by hundreds and the cattle bv thousands. The hubbub could not be sur owing of the oxen, the shriekini,' of the the bellowed orders of the convoy coi groaning of colliding waggons, made a ' sound worthy of the occasion. Among mid be seen ambulance waggons, water c tn carriages and ammu* nition waggons, t stinted officers hurrjing through, weary p »g to camp, and a few "Tommies" tram] h a cheery indifference to the restless, struggUng crowd. The actual road above the pontoon was the very steepest declivity I have ever seen negotiated by struc- tures on wheels. The *bus (empty of all occupants) slid unsteadily down the incline, rocking like a ship in a troubled sea, and the mules had to put on their best pace to keep clear of the onrushing wheels. The river at the point of crossing is extremely pic- turesque. The steep rugged banks are rendered beautiful by mimosa and cactus, and below the pontoons the torrent breaks into foaming rapids, while up-stream is the celebrated waterfall of the Tugela. From the river the road wound on to the foot of Umbmlwana. It ran across plains and down into valleys, and over spruits and across boulders, and through mimosa groves and over dusty wastes. A river at the foot of the great hill was forded, and as the mules were nearly carried off' their feet, and A JQURNBY to TjADYSMIW. W the waggon was flooded with the stream, we were glad to land on the opposite bank. The Boer camps through which the road led ghowed every evidence of a hurried departure. The cooking pots were still on the camp fires; the mde shelters under which our hardy enemy had lived were still intact The ground was strewed with refuse, with the remains of the last meal, with discarded articles of clothing, with empty bottles and barrels, with fragments of chairs and tables, with empty tlour sacks, and» above all, with the straw, which is a feature of a Boer settlement. There were no tents. The shelters were made of boughs, of beams of wood from adjacent farms, of iron railings^ of barbed wire, of plates of corrugated iron, of casual patches of canyas, and of old sacks. In some of the trenches the shelters were more elaborate, and varied from an almost shot^proof retreat to a simple tent, made out of two raw cow skina atretched over bamboos. These wild camps, amid a still wilder country, sug- gested the conventional ''brigand's retreat" The only evidences of a gentler mood were provided by a dis- carded concertina and by a letter I picked up on the roadsida The letter was &om a Boer wife at the home farm to her husband in the trenches. As we passed along the road we met with many evidences of a hurried flightu The dead horses were very nimierous ; and left by the roadside, witJi traces cut, wore carts, light spider*carts, water carts, waggons, and such cumbrous impedimenta as wheelbarrows and a smith's foige. One waggon had fallen headlong into a donga in the dark, and was an utter wreck. H ^x A JOWMKEY TO IAD f SMITH. At last, on mounting the summit of a little ridge, wo saw before us a wide green plain of waving grass, and beyond the plain and under the shelter of purple hills lay the unhappy town ' ^ ' '^ Ladysmith looks very pretty at the dista )f white and red roofs dotted about amo] mounted by the white tower of the Towi* The military ci sed at various points about the town. T i camps was that of the gallant King's B03 r had made some sort of home for themB€ of a barren and stony hilL They had, oi its, but had fashioned fjGtntastic shelters out or stone auu wood and wire. They had even burrowed into the ground, and had returned to the type of habitation common to primeval man. Among the huts and burrows were many paths worn smooth by the restless tread of weary feet The path the most worn of all was that which led to the water tanka The men themselves were piteous to see. They were thin and hollow-eyed, and had about them an air of utter lassitude and weariness. Some were greatly emaciated, nearly all were pale, nearly all were silent. They had exhausted every topic of conversation, it would seem, and were too feeble to discuss even their relief. Ladysmith was reached at 2.30 pjn., and the food convoy did not arrive until late the same evening, so we had the sad opportunity of seeing Ladysmith still unreUeved — unrelieved so far as the misery of hunger was concerned. I had no food at my disposal, but I had fortunately a good quantity ot tobacco, which was ! jomNEY TO lADYsmrn ft doled out in pipefiila so long as the supply lasted. It wotild have taken many pounds, however, to satisfy the eager, wasted, trembling hands which were thrust for- ward on the chance of getting a fragment of the weed. The town is composed almost entirely of single- storey houses built of corrugated iron, with occasional walls of brick or cement. In the suburbs of the town these houses are made as villa-like as possible by means of verandahs and flower gardens and creepers. The main street of the town, however, has no preten- sions to beauty, and in merely a broad road with corru- gated iron shops on either side. On walking into "Starvation City" one's first im* pression was that of the utter emptiness of the place. Most of the villas were unoccupied, were closed up, and^ indeed, barricaded, Tlie gardens were neglected, and eveij^thing had run wild. The impression of deaoktion w$B accentuated by an occasional house with a bole in its roof or its wall due to a Boer shell AU the people we met were pallid and hollow-eyed, and many were wasted AU were silent, listless, and depressed. There were no evidences of rejoicing, no signs of interest or animation, and, indeed, as I have just said, Ladysmith was stUt imrelievei Nearly every shop was closed or even barricaded Sign-boards showed that here was a coach-builder, and there a grocer The chemist's shop appeared to be empty of everything except the coloured water in the large bottles in the window. Such shops as were open were dark and desokte. There were many grim evidences of better days. i<»^^ A JOUMNsr TO UDTsmrnr. Thus one restaurant pr^ented, among other cheery signs, tho announcement of "Meals at all hours." Another establishment was gay with placards of " Ice creams." Notices " ' " J] kinds for sale made radiant a shop w f of everything but a table and some re Such was the ^ weary town. Streets empty of all but id listless men, stores without goods, sho )mers, a railway station without passengers, without letters, stamps, or post-cards. No can fully describe this city of desolation, ui, ky of the almost hope- less, this poor, batterea, woru-out, hungry town of Ladysmith, with a bright summer sun making mockery of its dismal streets. The wretchedness of the place was not mitigated by the horrible smells which greeted one at every comer, nor by the miserable, dirty river which crawled slimily through the place. We left the town about 6 p.m., and met on our way back the long convoy of waggons with food. It was dark when we reached the river by Umbulwana; and as it was dangerous, and, indeed, impossible to cross the drift except in daylight, we outspanned by the river bank, and made a pretence of sleeping. When yet it was dark on the following morning the mules were put in, and with the earliest streak of dawn we crossed the river and made for Colenso. The waggons were still toiling onwards towards Ladysmith. The road, as I have said, was very rough, and the A JOUUNICY TO LADY8MITB. 101 poor cart, which had served me well for three months, b^an to show signs of giving out It broke down at last, one of the wheels coming to pieces. We were then some seven miles from Colenso, and the vehicle was beyond all repair. So it was left by the roadside among other wreckage, a forlorn relic of what was once a smart " 'bus." Our very scanty luggage was packed upon the mules' backs, our remaining food was dis- tributed among the passers-by, and we proceeded to walk to Colenso. From Colenso we travelled to Chieveley by a casual goods train, sitting on the floor of an open truck, as there was no guard's van. We reached Chieveley on Saturday at 1 p.m., tired and dirty. is appended to this d during the course ijsmitlL The scene of the Great Tugela , and close to the ^hidi the troops had crossed on ttieir yictorious march. Sitting in the sun on a pile of timbers, which the engineers have left, is a typical straggler. His company has moved on to Pieters, and he has fallen out somehow and some- where on the march, and is following the lost column as best he can. The day is hot, and his jacket is thrown across his shoulders. A small cloud of flies buzz over him. He is tired, dirty, thirsty, and hungry. Fever has taken hold of him, and he is — as he would say — feeling "a bit thick" He is sitting by the river bank to await the first waggon across the pontoon on which a conductor will give him a Uft. In the meantime some good Samaritan is getting him a drink of water from the Btream. A BTRAOaLER. i^iMf. m. 1€^ XXIX HOW k SUBQRON WON THt VICTOKIA CB09& jK December 1 5th waa foiight the battle of Uolenso, ou the inorDiDg af a brilliaat summer's day. At dawn tho mea Imd marched out eagerly and in keen apirite, and with a swing of the shoulders which told of a certain victory. Before sundown they were beaten back, more than a thousand dead and wounded were lying on the field, the hosptt&l tents were crammed to overflowing, and the waggons, which were prepared to move forwards, were moving back The small hamlet of Colenso, battered, empty, and woe- begone, stands on the south bank of the river, and clings about the railway as a hoiiiely, unpretending little settlement made up of a few corrugated iron cottages on either side of a single street It looks almost like a toy village, and its prim fonnality is tempered by a friendly growth of cactus, aloes, and mimosa, by a few trees and by many gardena Behind Colenao is the veldt, which here extends southwards as a va»t undulating plain to Chieveley, Frere, and Estoourt Between Cbieveley and the river the veldt is smooth, and is broken only by ant-hills, by a few EaiMr kraals, und 104 HOW A SURQEQN WON TffB ViOTOMA OROm^ by the precise line of the milway. The plain Is green, but it is not the luxuriant green of England, and in the early morn- ing and about the time of the setting sun, tints of yellow and brown and pink "* ~"" ^^ wold and render the place strangely beauti During the glare 3 veldt gives simply a blinding sense of i faded green, and its monotony and its b d the utter lack of shade and variation se dreary as a desert. Beyond the viUa 'jorrent of the great Tugela tears seawai h banks and under broken bridges, and vris of pitiless ruin. Across the river are tne vnre, SK>ny, trench-Uned kopjes and hills held for so many long weeks by the Boers. About the foot of these bastion-like ridges is the squalor of a neglected camp, and on all sides are rifle pits and trenches and stone shelters and hidden holes. Man seems on this river bank to have gone back to the savagery of the cave dweller, and to be once more crawl- ing on the earth. Beyond these low hills are the grey heights of Umbulwana towering over Ladysmith. It was to the right of Colenso that the battle raged fiercest on December 15th, 1899. It was here that Colonel Long's batteries of field artillery were surprised by the enemy and were abandoned after a hideous sacrifice of horses and men. It was here that Lieutenant Roberts received his fatal wound, and it was here that Babtie won the Victoria Cross. The batteries were moving towards the river with the usual British unconcern, and in the quiet of a THE BATTLEFPEtO OF COLENaO. Im tkw fieHrttrmnti in th* tnKf§ of «<^fl «/ Co/. Lmo*b M^fHI. To fftt fifht im tti» Mtma*<* Qnm* (n whl&k (i'Obi*r't ttloof. Pofe p. kM HOW A aUBOMOIi VITON TBM VfOTOBlA VBOSf^:. lfi^» Suddenly there was poured upon them from the shelter of a. mimosa wood such a torrent of lead that m a few moments there was soareely a horse or a man standing. The men faced the wood ad only the British soldier can face death. The gallant attempts made to save the guns led only to further loss of life. Oolonel Long hod been shot down, some fifty horses had been sacrificed, and the scanty ranks of the English were thinning rapidly Still the cry went up, '* Hold fast to the guns ! " and when tho last forlorn hope had been attempted and had failed, the green veldt was littered with the wounded, the dying, and the dead. Near by the guns was a donga, and into this many of the wounded had crawled The galloper who took up the news of the disaster reported the need of help for the injured To this call Major Bab tie, RA.M.C., at once responded as a volunteer. His duty did not take him to the battlefield He rode down to this Inferno. He might as well have ridden before a row of targets during the smartest moment of rifle practice. Three times was his horse shot under him before he reached the doDga. Here, in the face of a galling tire, he dragged the wounded into shelter, and a little later he ventured out under a rain of lead to bring in Lieutenant Roberts, who was lying in the open desperately wounded For some seven hours Babtie kept by the wounded in the shaUow donga, no one daring to lift a head above the edge of the dip. He alone had a water-bottle, and he doled out what water he had in a 60-minim measure* ing glass. He was also able to relieve pain by morphine. 106 HOW 4 ^^unamN won tus viotonu unms- and when not otherwise occupied he sheltered poof Roberts's fac€ from the scorching sun hy holding aboYO it a letter he chanced to have in his pocket It was not until darkness to venture from tJ The sc^ne of tl green veldt lying i which led with m* the left were the ^ the right the grov* force was hidden, entrenchments and The last time I p; ijiaewu wcr ^ that it was possible the donga provided. as a level stretch ol Br and a brown road ros to Hiaogwani. To @nfi of Colenso, and to OS in which the Boer yer rose the enemy'i \,o{ Grobler's KlooC this spc>t was on the day after our cavalry had reached Ladysmith. It was on a day of peace. The sky was cloudless and no breath of air stirred along the grass. The bodies of the horses belonging to the lost gims were lying in a long line across the veldt Their bones were as white as are the bones of museum skeletons, for the vultures and the ants had done their work thoroughly. The hides were still drawn over the bleaching bones, and round the necks of these ill-fated beasts were still the collars and the harness by which they had dragged the guns into action. There was an absolute stillness over the whole scene. To the left a train was being shunted at Colenso Station with leisurely persistence, for the day was hot and the sun dazzling. To the right were the mimosa groves, glorious with yellow blossom, in the shadows of which the Boers had hiddea It was strange that it was from these dainty woods that the now A .WRGEON WON THE VTOTORIA CROSS. 107 hellish fire had poured forth which laid low so many gallant English lads, for on this quiet day the trees were busy with complaining doves. By the banks of the donga, which had been for a whole summer's day a valley of the shadow of death, a Kaffir was crooning over a concertina, from which came a lazy dirge-like music. The railway engine, the doves, and the rapt Kaffir were the sole moving objects in this garden of peace, and in the blue distance was the ridge of Grobler's Kloof, no longer belching fire and shell, but standing out delicately against the tender sky. No brave deed had ever a gentler setting. MUNDI. World," as the soldier mderstood by most of glory of baring servwi country, and of barixig d-i ike a man. There is. piui, k^n. _ rioas memory of some great charge and of the storming of some stubborn trench. And there is the home-coming, made glorious by the ringing of bells and the waving of flags, by a march through familiar streets and through shouting and cheering crowds, with the rattle of drums and fifes, with hurrahs and yells of welcome for the regiment he loves so well A home-coming like this is worth many days of hardship, many a Spion Kop, and many a dull week in a hospital tent. But it does not fall to the lot of all. I remember at Chieveley one morning before breakfast watching a solitary man approach the hospital line& He was as melancholy an object as ever a war has produced. He was a soldier who had fought at Colenso, at Yaal Krantz, and before Pieters, and he was now staggering towards the hospital a ragged, broken-down, khaki-coloured spectre of a man. 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